One day, they're both seated in the library, her eyes fixed on the book before her but not scanning the words. He already knows she's lost in her dreams, but he cannot imagine just what. Sometimes he fancies that she is dreaming of him, but that would be ridiculous enough all on it's own, considering her constant shouting that she hates him, hates him, hates him. 

He is still carefully watching her when her eyes widen, her hands thrusting her away from the table as her chair topples to the ground with a crash. Instinctively, he pushes his chair back as well and flocks to her side, his hand grasping hers in what he presumes is a comforting manner. Sabitsuki's crimson hues lock onto his sapphire ones, brimming with panic.